


When Skies Are Gray...

by EyeInTheDark



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Because that's the way I roll, F/M, Gen, Implied Rick/Michonne, Mentions of past child abuse, Non-Linear Narrative, Slight Canon Divergence, body image issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 17:56:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2397512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyeInTheDark/pseuds/EyeInTheDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When Cheyenne's hand slips into his as they walk down the train tracks behind Rick and the others, he doesn't let go..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Skies Are Gray...

Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead or any of the characters. All I own is the OFC and the plot :)

* * *

 

Daryl moans softly in his sleep, a nightmare on the horizon no doubt. Some horrific memory from his past plaguing his dreams.

Cheyenne is quick to place a soothing hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing small circular patterns over the tattoos she's seen peeking out from under the edge of his sleeveless shirt on hot days, finding they cascade down over his shoulder blade later.

She knows about the scars that litter his back. Saw them -once- when she caught him changing his shirt some time before losing the prison.

He had been angry at her -or so she thought- at the time. But when her eyes finally met his icy blue orbits in that moment of silent anger, a stare down between them, she had seen the truth.

He wasn't angry at her. Far from it.

He was ashamed.

Ashamed of something that couldn't possibly have been his fault. Not one bit.

She had backed away, whispering a soft "sorry" before leaving him alone.

She never mentioned his scars after that, and he never offered any answers. She just assumed, like her own, that they were the permanent reminder of a past, a terrifying childhood, wished long forgotten.

He sighs audibly, the unconscious tension in his shoulders easing as he relaxes into deep sleep once again. Daryl's a light sleeper, but when Cheyenne is near, he seems to sleep a lot sounder. Stays asleep through the night. His nightmares seeming to decrease considerably when the blonde is within arms reach.

An hour later, Cheyenne shushes him gently once again when he starts to whimper in his sleep, sounding vulnerable and very much like a frightened child.

Humming softly to him, she gently runs her slender fingers through his shaggy locks, murmuring quiet endearments to the sleeping hunter as Rick watches silently from his guard post by the door.

Moments like this were almost treasured when it came to a good nights sleep. Especially for Daryl.

Rick smiled slightly to himself at the way Cheyenne cuddled Daryl closer, humming "You Are My Sunshine" softly to the sleeping man. She was holding him like a big teddy bear, motherly and protective all at once as they tried to stay warm for the night.

He wasn't blind. None of them were. They had all seen the change between Daryl Dixon and one Cheyenne Carter since the prison. Something had happened out there, after the prison went down in flames, to make them open their hearts to one another.

Before, Daryl wouldn't have allowed her to be so close. He would have most likely huddled in a corner alone, refusing to be near anyone. But now, either Daryl held her or she Daryl during every single night after Terminus.

They had mentioned something about the men they had traveled with having a rule. Rick had even caught Cheyenne confiding in Michonne once about how Daryl had been forced to "claim" her in order to keep them together, keep her safe from the animals they had been forced to rely on, and he wondered if that was the reason they had stuck so close.

Some psychological thing nagging at them in the back of their heads, prodding them that they needed to stay close. Or was it just plain selfish reasons such as want for each other keeping them glued to each other?

Rick hoped it was the second. Daryl needed someone other than their makeshift family to love him. He needed someone special, someone who belonged to him and him alone. Cheyenne was perfect -in the ex-lawman's eyes- for the hunter.

Yes, she was a bit young. She had made it perfectly clear to them that she was 23-years-old when she revealed that she had kept track of the date, month and year since the horrors began while still at the prison. She had lost track since then, but it didn't matter. They could still keep track of the years by the changes in the seasons. That was easy.

No one knew for sure how old Daryl was, though. Everyone guessed somewhere in his late thirties, possibly early forties, but he never offered his exact age. Just shrugged whenever someone asked.

Rick sighed softly, watching his breath mist before his eyes for the briefest of moments before disappearing.

_It's the apocalypse. Life is short. Does age really matter anymore?_

The former lawman found himself startled out of his thoughts when a quiet voice breaks the silence.

"You should get some sleep."

_Michonne._

"Somebody's gotta keep watch," he reasons softly, glancing back to the hunter and his self-appointed guardian angel, both sleeping peacefully now, the lullaby Cheyenne had been humming faded away into the darkness like a distant, haunting memory. "Ain't wakin' either of them up...Not the way they've been pushin' themselves the last couple'a days..."

"It's quiet," Michonne states calmly, persistant in her mission. "The place is locked up tight. No walkers are gonna catch us off guard. Nobody needs woke up."

He eyes her for a moment, the bluish white light of the full moon filtering in through the dirty window over his shoulder shining brightly against her dark face, lighting it beautifully and allowing him to get lost in those mysterious dark eyes for a heartbeat of a second.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he gives in, allowing her to lead him over to where Carl has made his nest of a bed and is sleeping soundly. He lies down, he on the boy's right and she on his son's left.

He barely closes his eyes before sleep overtakes him.

~*#*~

The next morning, they awake to gray, overcast skies, signs of rain heavy in the air as they start walking, following the train tracks as they had before Terminus.

Daryl says that it's a good compass right now. It's a landmark, something to follow, and their best bet on keeping them on the right path. So they walk the tracks. Rick, Michonne and Carl take point, followed by Maggie and Glenn, Sasha and Bob, Tara with Ford, Rosita and Eugene.

Daryl and Cheyenne fall to the rear of the group, content to follow silently behind the rest. To let Rick lead until he needs them.

Daryl suddenly feels the warmth emanating from Cheyenne's form as she draws closer to him, and when her hand slips into his as they walk down the train tracks behind Rick and the others, he doesn't let go...


End file.
